Why
by tabbi
Summary: Just a liitle insight into Grissom. My answer to the question.... why does he do that?
1. Why

Disclaimer:  The characters belong to Alliance, CBS and a whole bunch of people I wish I was.  I don't make money from this.  I do it for fun.

Author's Notes

            I don't own CSI or any of the characters.  I enjoy writing and usually I don't like to use other people's characters.  But Grissom bugs me.  Why is he the way he is?  This is my explanation of a few of his more peculiar habits.  It's not particularly inspired or original.  I wish there was more back story on all the characters, but especially Grissom.   The song is called "Footprints" by Rez Band.

**"Why?"**

            He stared in rapt fascination at the female on the table.  Her eyes were mesmerizing and her hair a brilliant red, like a halo of bright fire.  She cast her spell and he was trapped, lost so far in thoughts miles from the thick heat; he never heard them coming.

_"Did I ever know you?_

_It's the saddest thing of all_

_In my mind I'm still holding you_

_Been a long time since the fall_

_I can't embrace a memory_

_I couldn't even say goodbye_

_Only left me with one question_

_And that's why…"_

"Hey retard, are you deaf as well as dumb?"

The uneasy titter of nervous students was followed by crashing and banging; his books and uneaten lunch hitting the ground

            "Hey, dummy, is that why your father left?  He found out his son was as defective as his wife?"

There was little chance he could best this goon and his gang; but adolescent need to prove himself urged him to give in to his anger.  A huge meaty paw grabbed his shoulder and shoved him to the ground.  His glasses went flying; his mother would be upset if they were damaged.  He blinked in the blazing sun preparing himself to be pummeled.  Again.

"Hey, Eddie, don't you have something better to do but cause trouble?"

A shadow fell over him as someone, a girl, stepped between him and his assailant.  Her hair was a wild mass of blood red curls.  They seemed to radiate her anger.

"Listen, cretin."  She hissed.  "You want to hassle people go do it on the streets.  There's a war on; if I want to see violence while I eat, I'll tune in the evening news."

Eddie's eyes narrowed as he glared at her.  "If you think I'm backing down because I'm scared of your brother, you're wrong."

"It's not Vinny you should worry about, Eddy Victor."  Her smile was cold and feral. "It's me."

A bell rang and the backdrop of students suddenly came to life.  Eddie glared at her a moment longer, then disappeared into the teeming mass.

She turned to help him up.  A smile lit her face.

"Sorry about your lunch." she said picking up his books.

"Do I know you?"  He asked.

"First period Biology." She answered. "You're pretty smart."

"Mary Catherine!"

She rolled her eyes at a tall muscled bound senior in a letterman jacket striding across the courtyard.  The boy sighed preparing for a pounding.

"Hey, you better get going, smart guy."  She said.  "You're going to be late for class.  See you tomorrow, Gil Grissom."

Gil watched her walk over to her brother.  He should fell humiliated.  A girl had just saved him from an ugly beating.  An exceptionally beautiful girl.  That thought repeated itself in an endless loop for the rest of the day and late into the night.

Despite the logical rational conclusions, Gil was still an adolescent male and hoped there was something more to the encounter than random chance.

"Hi.  Is anyone sitting here?"

Gil looked up, meeting her eyes; her amazing gorgeous green eyes.  He smiled at her.  "Only you."

She smiled back, a pale pink blush rising in her freckled cheeks.  "By the way, my name's Cat.  Catherine DiGiavanni, actually; but you can call me Cat."  She put her books on the lab table and sat down beside him.

"Gil Grissom."  He didn't know what else to say.

Cat giggled.  "I know.  It's taken me this long to work up the nerve to talk to you."

"Oh."  Gil had never considered this option.  He was usually the one unsure of himself in social situations.

"I can't believe you ignored Eddie Victor for so long yesterday at lunch.  Boy, was he mad."  Sincere admiration shone in her eyes.

"It wasn't intentional."  Gil admitted.  "I was studying a spider.  I tend to become a bit single minded studying something.  I really like bugs…"

The bell rang, interrupting his thoughts.  They settled back and listened to the day's lecture.  Cat ate lunch with him that day and nearly everyday after that.

One day after lunch, about a week after Cat had started eating with him; Gil had a visit from Cat's brother Vinny.  At 6'3", Vinny was nearly a head taller than the rest of the school and had a reputation for being bad news.  Vinny sat down next to Gil and placed an arm around his shoulder.  Gil was sure it wasn't meant as a welcoming gesture.

"Hey, Grissom, we're both men, so I won't obscure the issue with vague social niceties.  You better have the most honorable of intentions where my sister is concerned because I will do irreparable damage to anyone who hurts her."  Vinny's smile was pleasant in spite of his menacing words.

"You know, Vincent DiGiavanni, thugs do not make good doctors."  Cat stood behind them, arms crossed looking irate.

"Relax, Catherine, I'm just having a little chat with my friend Gil."  Vinny grinned at his sister.

Gil grinned at Cat, too.  "Sure, we're just comparing notes."

"Well, discuss music, the war, or even the civil rights movement, but do not discuss me as if I am incapable of making my own choices."  Cat grabbed her books and stormed away.

Vinny shook his head.  "I'm telling you, Gil, women's lib is gonna make our lives miserable."

"I don't know."  Said Gil, shrugging.  "I kind of like independent women."

Gil's relationship with Cat was unlike anything else.  Instead of being tormented he had faded away into the scenery.  Cat was a free spirit.  She was pretty and personable but she care little for the important social events teens so anticipate.  She loved the water and they often went to the shore in tandem.  Sometimes, Cat would surf or swim.  Or she would sit in the sand to sketch or paint.  Other times she would walk down the shoreline with Gil as he looked for specimens.  She never compelled him to talk nor did she feel it necessary to fill the silence between them with words.

Gil's mother adored Cat, who learned to sign for herself because she loved to learn new things.  And Cat's family thought Gil was wonderful.  Cat's parents were thrilled she had found 'a nice Catholic boy'; although Gil was a rare sight in mass these days.  Cat's brothers, Vinny and Tony were happy Gil was 'safe'.  Cat's little sister, Elizabeth, thought Gil was the coolest guy she'd ever met.  But most of all, Gil was happy.

He was never sure how to define their relationship.  They weren't exactly 'going steady', but they were something more than friends.

At Vinny's graduation, Gil discovered that he wasn't the only one confused by their ambiguous platonic friendship.  He had never cared for what other people thought; it came with the territory; he was peculiar.  But he found it angered him that people thought something less than kind about Cat.

"So Catherine, is Grissom good in bed?"

"What?!"  Cat's voice was cold.

"What other reason would you have to stay with him the whole year?"

"He's brilliant."  Snapped Cat.  "Not that it's your concern what I do with Gil."

Cat spun on her heel to leave.  Her face, red with rage, paled as she locked eyes with Gil.  With an enigmatic smile, he held up an arm.  "Shall we join your family?"

There were rare moments that summer when Gil found himself thinking about her instead of the insect he had been hunting.  The soft touch of her hand in his made his knees weak and his ears buzz.

One rainy afternoon, he looked up from his books to find her studying him, a serious look on her face.

"What are you looking at?"  He asked.

"You have the most incredible eyes, Gil."  Cat sighed.  "Take off your glasses, please."

"Why?"

"Because I want to draw them. The eyes are a window to the soul and you hide yours behind your glasses.  Deep pools of dark water, they could hide treasure or terror; like some great lake of legend in an epic tale."  Gil gave Cat the look of a true skeptic, arching one eyebrow.  She giggled before continuing.  "Sorry, I've been reading Tolkien, again."

The fourth of July was bright and hot.  Gil and his mother spent the day with the DiGiavanni's and that evening they watched the fireworks from the front lawn.  It was the best fourth Gil could ever remember.  They lay on an old worn horse blanket, Gil, Cat and Elizabeth.  Cat's chocolate lab, Moose, settled herself between Gil and Cat, much to everyone's amusement.  Gil absently scratched Moose, fascinated by the blooming flowers of fire in the black night sky.  Something heavy pressed on the back of his hand.  Cat laced her fingers in his squeezing them tight.   A dizzy thrill went through him like nothing he'd ever felt on a roller coaster.

The summer was spent much too quickly.  It flew by on swift wings; making the fleeting lives of most insects look like centuries.  As summer drew to a close, Gil and Cat sat on the beach watching the sun sink into the dark waters of the Pacific, like a tired old woman.  If this was a dream, Gil was determined to squeeze it dry.  Cat sat in the sand breathing her melancholy sighs, bemoaning the passing of their all too short break.

"I should have been a hippie."  She sighed.  "All the crazy stuff we do to destroy life and I love to get lost in it.  To feel the warm sand, the heat of the bright sun and the cool saltiness of the ocean; I can't stand the idea of returning to school."

"I thought you loved to learn."

Cat frowned at Gil.  "Learn, yes.  Sit in classes where we argue the validity of the war and dissect pigs, no.  I wish I could just draw and read.  Bradbury, Asimov, perhaps some Shelley, with a few poems by Milne and Elliot thrown in."

"Eclectic tastes."

"And your hobbies aren't?"  She grinned at him like a fool.  "Have you heard from the LA morgue yet?"

Gil shook his head.  "It wouldn't be official or anything, I'd do the clean-up and other things no one wants to do."

"My Hero."  She paused.  "Do you believe in fate?"

"What?"

"Until I met you I didn't believe in fate, but now, I don't know."

Gil's face was only inches from Cat's.  The school year would start tomorrow.  His heart raced in his ears.  She leaned towards him. Gil wanted to kiss her but felt he couldn't without asking her permission first.

"May I kiss you?"  He whispered.

"I thought you'd never ask."  She answered.

He kissed her.  A kiss that would last for eternity; and yet like the fading summer would end much too quickly.

Gil stared at the body on the table.  Although he had told Cat he would be doing the jobs at the morgue no one else wanted to do; he really didn't want to do it today.  He gazed at the body before him; the one he was supposed to clean up and prep for the mortuary.  The dark purple black bruises covered the body.  The ligature marks around the neck were mottled with dried blood.  The victim had fought back violently, but was no match for the assailant.  Gil could see it happen in his mind's eye.  He shuddered.  Some monster had beaten, strangled, and raped her, before leaving her for dead in the tall grass by the side of the road like road kill.

_"…there were footprints in the snow_

_You'd come round late at night_

_You knew the door was always open_

_But you never came inside_

_Now I'm standing by a cold grave stone_

_All alone like you_

_Don't tell me loves a mystery_

_When I'm feeling so confused…"_

He had been there at the end.  He had held her hand as she struggled for life and finally lost.  He had been powerless to help.  Cat had broken his heart.  He had fallen hard for her and now his heart was in a million jagged pieces.

"Grissom, go home.  I'll do this."  One of the coroner's assistants stood in the doorway.

"It's my job."  Grissom said without emotion.  "That's why I'm here, to learn the ins and outs of this job."

"This comes from the boss.  He said you're too involved in this one."  The young man offered Grissom a sympathic smile.  "Go home, we'll catch the guy.  He can't hide from the evidence."

Grissom wandered without purpose down the hall.  The chief M.E. observed the melancholy boy for a moment.

"I want to talk with you for a moment, Gil."  The old man allowed Grissom to settle into a chair before speaking.  "Go home.  I can't risk you contaminating the evidence, even accidentally.  Sometimes, there will be cases that will get to you.  You can't allow your emotions to take control.  If you get angry, the bad guys win.  Don't let him have this much influence on your life.  Don't get too personally involved; it will only make things harder, and you'll burn out in the long run."

Grissom shook his head.  It would be years before he realized the truth in the old man's words.  

_"…you told me about a heart of stone_

_Since you've been prowling through this place_

_Hoping to be rescued_

_Still a prisoner of your shame_

_You said bleeding was so easy_

_But to ever take the blame_

_Was like swallowing hot coals_

_And spitting out the flames_

_Tried to show my love for you_

_Now it's just too late_

_Why did you have to make the last mistake?"_


	2. Post Script

Disclaimer:  The characters belong to Alliance, CBS and a whole bunch of people I wish I was.  I don't make money from this.  I do it for fun.

**"Post Script"**

            Grissom stared at the girl's body.  She had been strangled to death.  Her strawberry blonde hair and lithe form had struck a chord.  Or maybe it was just the fact that Jackson had called to tell him Wembly Teague had confessed to Cat's long ago death.  Teague was dying of cancer, divine revenge at least that was Teague's theory.  Doc Robbins had finished the autopsy and the evidence was collected.  Now they would study the evidence and let it speak to them to find justice for this poor unfortunate soul.  Grissom had offered to clean up, so the doctor could grab some dinner.

            Greg stood in the doorway.  He hadn't meant to interrupt, and now he felt like he had walked in on a secret.  Grissom was peculiar and a very private person, but Greg saw a different person before him.  A master; gentle skilled hands checked the water temperature; or so it seemed to Greg.  Smooth practiced hands, efficient, almost loving in their care.  The body was still a person to Grissom, and that, to Greg, was anomalous.  Lost in this thought, Greg didn't notice Grissom had rounded the table, and seeing Greg in the doorway, fixed him with an expectant stare.

            "What are you doing here, Greg?"  Grissom's voice startled him.

            "Uh, looking for Sara.  I've got the results on that residue she found at the robbery."  Greg whispered.

            "She's not here."

            "Oh, I thought …. Well, she said she was looking for you and Doc Robbins said…"

            Grissom interrupted.  "Why are you whispering?"

            "It's seemed like the thing to do, you know, out of respect."  Greg shrugged, feeling stupid.

            "They're dead, Greg."  Said Grissom resuming his work.  "They won't mind."

            "Oh, yeah, I guess you're right."  Greg always felt stupid around Grissom.  He would get nervous and do something stupid, like ramble.  "How can you do this?"

            "What?  Clean up the table after an autopsy?"  Grissom gestured noncommittally.  "I was an M.E. in L.A. and I used to do autopsies.  I did clean up at the morgue to work my way through school."

            "No."  Greg shook his head, frowning.  "How can you go to scene after scene and see these people on the worst day of their lives?  Doesn't it bother you?"

            "Why are you here, Greg?"

            "I'm looking for Sara."  Greg was puzzled; was Grissom trying to get rid of him?

            "No, Greg.  Why are you here?"  Grissom paused and looked at him, an unreadable expression on his face.  "You are a talented chemist.  Why work in a forensics lab?  You could make more money working in a research lab somewhere."

            "I want to be where the action is."  Greg said lamely.

            Grissom stopped and studied Greg crossing his arms with a look of skepticism.  "Really?  Analyzing chemicals in the middle of the nigh isn't really that action packed."

            Greg stared at the floor.  Why couldn't he be intelligent around these people?  Of course he knew the answer, they just made him nervous.  Especially Grissom.

            Grissom gave him an odd look.  "Science geek to science geek, Greg.  Why are you here; the truth?"

            Greg sighed.  "It's goofy, but I want to help."

            "Help what?"  Greg didn't answer.  But Grissom continued anyway.  "Help save the world?  Make it safe for future generations by apprehending all the monsters of the world?  Defending the innocent with science and riding the world of evil?"

            "Yeah."  Greg grinned weakly.  "Kind of corny, huh?"

            "No.  Everyone wants to be a hero…"

            Whatever Grissom intended to say next was cut off by the arrival of Nick and Sara.

"Hey boss, we got those prints back from CODIS."  Nick said waving a few papers.    

"Hey, Gris, have you seen…"  Sara stopped.

"I have your results, Sara."  Mumbled Greg; he handed her a thick envelop and turned to leave.  He paused at the door to look at Grissom.  Greg could have sworn he heard Grissom finish his thought.

"Me too, Greg."


End file.
